


Lights Out

by yes_dot_com



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Blackouts, Blood and Injury, Canon Compliant, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mental Breakdown
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-25
Updated: 2020-11-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:54:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27715057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yes_dot_com/pseuds/yes_dot_com
Summary: “Hey, Keiji. I’m surprised yer doing the dishes at this hour.”Fuck.In which Akaashi was having a bad day and proceeded to have a breakdown.
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Miya Osamu
Comments: 17
Kudos: 117





	Lights Out

**Author's Note:**

> just a quick trigger warning!! 
> 
> There are graphic descriptions of blood and mentions of panic attacks so please read with caution. Also swear words.  
> Thank you 
> 
> also this wasn't beta read and was done at 2 in the morning (again) oops

Akaashi was not having a good day.

Other than the fact that he couldn’t see an inch in his apartment, this was just one step closer to his fuse blowing out.

It was now five minutes since the blackout, and Akaashi still didn’t move from his spot. From the floor that he sat on, his blanket was wrapped around his frame, making his body release its perspiration with the added heat of the air conditioning not working.

It had been raining all week with the occasional thunder striking the air, making the apartment light up from the windows. The rumbling of the thunder mixed with the harsh rain seemed to be the only thing that brought Akaashi back to his senses, almost the one thing holding him together.

Knowing that he would blow up if his day got any worse, however, he took a deep breath.

A deep inhale,

_1…2…3…4..._

A deep exhale,

_5…6…7…8..._

Just like Osamu taught him when his thoughts wouldn’t stop running circles in his mind.

After clearing his head for a few more seconds, he searched for his phone. His hands blindly wondered around the kotatsu, palms tapping each surface until they found his device.

Surely his friends had the same problem and were worrying about it, right?

Expecting his phone full of texts and emails, he was instead greeted to a wallpaper of Osamu’s face on screen. No notifications in sight.

No signal either. Only 2% of battery left.

Closing his eyes, he took another deep breath to keep his thoughts at bay.

Just his luck that all this happened in one day.

Waking up to his blaring alarm that morning, he already felt a headache coming on from his restless night from before. He went to bed that night at approximately 4:21 in the morning with Osamu already fast asleep, seemingly oblivious to his significant other’s sleep schedule.

By the time Akaashi woke up, he overslept and was already fifteen minutes late to work. With Osamu up earlier to open Onigiri Miya at the crack of dawn, Akaashi had no one else to blame but himself as he hurried through his morning routine.

Scrambling to look even half-presentable, he grabbed the bento box on the kitchen table that Osamu would leave him every morning for lunch and ran to the metro.

After stepping on a puddle, being sandwiched in between a rather large man on the metro, and almost slipping on the subway steps, he made it to work barely alive.

And it just so happened to start raining while he was making the short walk his building. His glasses filled with droplets, the paper bag with the bento inside began to soak, and the squelching of his shoes began to set in.

It wasn’t until he reached his work cubicle inside the not-wet building that he had his first breath of fresh relief.

That was, until his senior mangaka Udai had announced that they moved their chapter deadline a week earlier in response to all the weather.

“ _It’s out of my control_ ,” Udai had said that morning.

Working non-stop on editing the previous chapter that night, Akaashi started working on the next one already, trying to catch up with the ever marching of time.

When lunch time finally rolled into the heaviness of the day, Akaashi’s growing headache began to worsen. There was a faint throbbing in the side of his head that made its way to his front. His tired, strained eyes needed a well-deserved break due to the 4 hours of sleep he received and the non-stop screaming of his computer’s monitor.

Those 45 minutes of eating was just what Akaashi needed. Grabbing his paper bag for lunch, his stomach dropped to the floor as his bento box had also spilled its contents along with it. There was rice, meat, and eggs draped on the floor, covering his shoes and even on the wires of his computer. Such a loud noise from the clatter had attracted the eyes of innocent bystanders, watching as the crime scene took place.

Face red and embarrassed by the unwanted attention on him, he swiftly apologized for the disturbance and began cleaning up the remains of his lunch. Hardly anything survived the tragedy of his lunch escaping the soggy paper bag save for the 3.5 grains of rice stuck to the lid.

After throwing away his spoiled lunch, he sat back at his desk with his still empty stomach and head pounding from the horrible start to his day. He considered grabbing his lunch by visiting his boyfriend at Onigiri Miya, but by the sound of the relentless rain outside, he was left with no other option but to sulk inside.

Opening his phone for the first time that day, he was met with texts from group chats and messages from Osamu checking up on him. As soon as he opened the daily picture that Osamu would send him every morning him of preparing his Onigiri, his phone alerted him that he was only on 10% of power left. Just his luck that he forgot to charge it last night too.

Dismissing his message, he caught up with all his texts and messages from that morning.

**Miya Osamu**

good morning, my keiji!

hope you enjoyed your bento i made for you ;)

[Attachment: 1 Image]

_9:10 AM_

Seemingly the only thing that made Akaashi crack a smile that day, he responded back about how horrible his day was.

**Miya Osamu**

MY BENTO :O

NOOOO!!!!!

i’m rlly sorry your day has been shit :,(

tell you what, as soon as i get home ill make you a new one and we can relax all day

put on a movie or something

how does that sound ? ;)

_12:12 PM_

Responding back to him, he felt his day seemingly get better with the promise of his words lingering in the back of his mind.

Immersing back to his work, he tried to finish as much as possible before returning home. Of course, due to his pounding head and his abandoned stomach, there wasn’t much work he finished up on.

Calling it a day at 6 pm already, he decided he would simply take his work home and hopefully be done before Osamu got home.

Back at home, though, it wasn’t much easier to work.

After taking making himself the microwavable ramen that Osamu hated and swallowing some Tylenol, he worked himself down until the sound of rain and the promise of night came home.

This ever-present rain all day had led to the blackout that he was now currently facing with his dead phone on its knees and his last nerve on edge.

 _Clearly_ , he was _not_ having a good day. 

As he continued to stare into Osamu’s bright of a smile on his lock screen, he could feel his agitation set in.

No cell service, no air conditioning.

Great.

Nothing had gone his way today.

Instead of just sitting around sulking over the morn of his practically dead phone, he blindly got up and made his way toward the kitchen. He decided to save his phone’s last words for an actual emergency instead of using the phone’s flashlight.

Matches and candles ought to work better, right?

With his arms touching every near surface he could, he maneuvered his way to their kitchen.

Just as he was making his way to the cupboards, he couldn’t help but feel like something was missing. Or rather someone. Akaashi tried to remember when the last time he had entered the kitchen with Osamu in it.

Now that the holidays were right around the corner, both Akaashi and Osamu were busier than ever. With Akaashi keeping up with deadlines before his Christmas break and Osamu trying to cover everyone’s shift at work while they visited their families, they were hardly ever home with each other.

Osamu’s schedule would consist of him opening and closing his restaurant in the early and late hours of the day, while Akaashi was at a nine to five job where he would constantly work overtime. As soon as Osamu opened the door to Onigiri Miya, Akaashi would just barely wake up for the morning. 

It was hard working around their schedules for the past weeks as they only had time to see each other on Sunday. Saturday, too, if they were lucky.

As much as he wanted to spend more time with Osamu, he knew that he would never fully enjoy himself if he still had all his work piled up. Before they could schedule a date or a quick bite, Akaashi had to make sure he had enough time to edit his work before or after. There was never a day where he could fully rest.

Usually, if Akaashi would go to bed late and if Osamu was still surprisingly awake, he would drag his fingers through Akaashi’s mess of a hair when he couldn’t sleep. Osamu would fill his head with massages when he knew he couldn’t shut his thoughts. It was those nights where Akaashi would feel the most tranquil: nothing but the sensation of his boyfriend’s hands moving his fingers up and down and up and down, never stopping until Akaashi fell into a deep slumber.

Being engulfed in Osamu’s body, his warmth seeping into Akaashi and his rhythm of light breathing lured him into a state of dreariness.

It’s the steadiness of Osamu that Akaashi fell in love with. The steadiness of his cooking, the steadiness of his promise of always being there at night in bed, the steadiness of his chest breathing up and down bringing him that sense of peace Akaashi longed for.

Oh, how he wished he could just fall into Osamu’s arms, not having another care in the world but him.

But alas, his growing pile of work would still loom over Akaashi, waiting on him to finish everything before catching a break.

Wishing he could take a break from everything, he continued to search into the cabinets and cupboards for matches. After all the cabinets he searched through only had kitchen utensils and pots and pans and knick-knacks, he was 100% certain that the last cabinet he didn’t search through would definitely have the matches he was looking for.

This was his beacon of light (quite literally), and he could practically smile at the guarantee of lighting up his candles.

Fully confident in his decision, he blindingly reached into the cabinet and was instead met with a handful of blades from the kitchen knives.

A crack of thunder.

“FUCK!”

The seemingly light at the surface of water had not been the surface he oh so desperately wanted to swim above to. Instead of originally reaching his hand above water for a breath of air, he was meet with a scorching palm. The sun had burned him instead of giving him the sweet promise of release.

It was the feeling of pulling all-nighters. When Akaashi would work hours upon hours until the sun would peek its stupid head up, he would feel a sense of guilt.

The sun wasn’t supposed to be there. It was still supposed to be the time of the moon keeping him company as Akaashi slaved over his laptop. He would often lose his track of time, and the sun would instead betray him and forcibly lend its hand to Akaashi’s.

The guilt he would feel when he was still tired for the sun and awake for the moon haunted him. Yes, he was a night owl and preferred to work when the old, gray moon was right there by his side, but when it was time for the next day to begin and a fresh start to arise, he felt the guilt set in when the sun saw the bags he carried under his eyes or his messed-up schedule giving him the gift of droopiness all day.

He felt this guilt when Osamu would take him in into bed. Sometimes, more often than not, Osamu would have to beg for him go to bed where the moon would be waiting for Akaashi to get some rest.

Yes, there were times where they would argue. Despite their relationship built on trust and acceptance, they would quarrel over the tiniest of matters when Akaashi had little to no sleep, when his temper would be at an all time high.

Working for hours on end certainly took an unsupervised toll on Akaashi.

Akaashi would occasionally even plead with Osamu to let him edit his work some more. He would stand his ground about trying to squeeze in some leeway just to finish one more sentence.

One more sentence.

One more sentence turned into a few paragraphs.

Turned into chapters.

Turned into his full-time work.

He was consumed by his work and couldn’t seem to catch a break. He was a workaholic, whether he enjoyed it or not.

Osamu, however, had always been there to remind him that he was still human, that he was allowed to make these mistakes or catch breaks.

Even when Akaashi would yell at him in the middle of the night through his tears and hiccups about having too much work piled on him, Osamu would still calmly talk him out of it. He would console and still be there to comfort him about anything and everything that had his mind on hyperdrive.

Whispers from Osamu calmed him down. His touch brought Akaashi peace when he couldn’t seem to find it on his own. He would help him catch his breath as his sobs subdued into a light slumber. His presence alone always brought Akaashi back to the surface when he was drowned by his own actions.

 _It’s funny,_ Akaashi thought, his palm still bleeding out of his hand.

It’s funny that even when the moon was out, Akaashi was still in his world of overthinking.

He just couldn’t seem to catch a break, could he?

Swallowing up his pain with the prick of tears in the back of his eyes, he couldn’t help but feel stuck, his feet glued to the floor.

By instinct, he retracted his hand away from the bloody blade, but he still stood there unmoving. The fine line of a cut the knife gave him started to bleed out, soaking his palm entirely.

With every shaky breath Akaashi took, it only got worse. The blood continued to seep out, turning cold as it hit the fresh oxygen in the apartment. It was still hot and muggy without air conditioning, but the dark blood on his hand proved otherwise.

It wasn’t when the too quiet of the apartment heard the fresh drop of blood fall onto the kitchen tile, splattering the surface tension of the blood drop, that brought Akaashi back to his senses.

His clogged throat took a deep breath in. He choked. He had tears in his eyes that refused to fall down. He couldn’t stop coughing.

Akaashi staggard back as he held his bleeding palm in his other hand, trying to make sense of _anything_ that had happened. 

With his eyes almost used to the darkness of the apartment, he began to move, but even then, it was still too dark to see shit. He tried to make his way to the sink.

Water.

Water that he was used to suffocating from was washing away his blood-stained palm. Ironically, the water that he felt drowned of was, in a sense, helping him wash away the open wound on his palm. His open wound was being flushed away with tap water that was used for cooking and watering the plants.

He took in shaky breaths and couldn’t stop quivering so violently, his vison blurry from the unshed tears in his eyes. He couldn’t breathe.

Throughout this day, Akaashi noticed, not once did he ever shed a tear. Not once did he ever give the sun or moon the satisfaction of his tears. And he wasn’t going to start now.

With his breathing out of control and his hand shaking from the steady stream of water from the facet, he could only stand in the kitchen, motionless. He would just let this day beat the crap out of him until he couldn’t take it any longer. He truly thought this day had finally ended and there were no more surprises for him.

It wasn’t until he heard the jingle of keys enter the doorknob and the sound of a certain someone stepping inside that Akaashi knew he his day was _now_ officially fucked.

When Osamu sees what Akaashi had gone through today, he’s sure to break up with him, right? When Osamu sees what Akaashi had been overreacting about all day, he’ll want to split up. All those nights where Akaashi would come to bed late into the night would finally get to Osamu. All their stupid fights about Akaashi and his schedule would finally be the reason to split things up. It was all Akaashi’s fault they were like this. If it weren’t for his stupid career that he didn’t even want to pursue in the first place, they wouldn’t be in this situation. It was all Akaashi’s fault that he hardly ever gets to see Osamu anymore. He doesn’t deserve a place in his arms. He doesn’t deserve—

“Hey, Keiji. I’m surprised yer doing the dishes at this hour.”

_Fuck._

Afraid of saying anything out loud, he just nodded, but then quickly realized it was too dark to see anything, so he cleared his throat and gave Osamu a quick “Mhm” of confirmation.

“‘Tsumu told me about the whole blackout, so I stopped by the store to pick up some flashlights and batteries. Sorry I took so long ta get here.” He placed the plastic bag filled with said items on the kitchen counter. “Oh, and I also bought candles and matches cuz I know ya like those better.”

Akaashi could only continue to stare at his still bleeding hand under the rain of the facet. He was too afraid to look up at him. Too afraid of what he might say. Akaashi only stood at the foot of the sink, completely petrified as Osamu began to hum along to a random-ass song while he took everything out of the bags and lined them up on the counter. 

Akaashi thought Osamu wouldn’t notice his unmoving hand. He thought it wasn’t a big deal and wouldn’t speak a word of how horrible his day went.

Oh, how wrong he was.

Next thing Akaashi knew, Osamu turned off the facet and had his face towards Akaashi’s side profile where he was avoiding eye contact.

As always, Osamu noticed _everything_.

Even if it was the slightest change in attitude or tone, Osamu was very observant and could tell when Akaashi was out of it. And Akaashi hated him for it.

Not even in the mood to lie to himself anymore, Akaashi reluctantly turned to face Osamu’s unshielded eyes.

“What’s wrong?”

That was it.

That was the last thing Akaashi heard before he completely lost it.

All his struggles of that day and his previous days came smashing onto him, piling up on his back until he couldn’t stand anymore. He fell into Osamu’s arms as he sobbed and sobbed his problems away.

Tears that had he had been holding back since the morning had finally broke the dam in his tear ducts.

He cried because he didn’t see Osamu that morning. He cried because he skipped his lunch. He cried because he just couldn’t work anymore. He cried because he felt hopeless.

He cried because Osamu was finally here.

Heaving sobs and spilling fat, ghiblli tears onto Osamu’s uniform was the only thing he could do as Osamu held him in his arms, his glasses squished against Osamu’s shoulders. Akaashi had practically collapsed on him and had led to Osamu having to hold him up while he continued his worthless crying.

Grabbing tightly to his uniform in fear of letting go, Akaashi could only quiver and shake as Osamu ran his hands through his hair.

Up and down and up and down.

The way he always did when he asked. The way he always did when he couldn’t sleep. The way he always did when he comforted Akaashi.

Osamu held Akaashi just as tightly as he did, whispering words of comfort and reassurance.

Through his ugly crying, Akaashi could only hear snippets of “I’m right here, Keiji” or “Stay with me.”

“Everything’s alright.” Osamu whispered in Akaashi’s hair. “Just let it all out. I’m right here, baby.”

This did nothing to subdue Akaashi’s holding back of tears. Now that Osamu was here, he couldn’t do anything to stop the waves of tremors and the sobs that ran down his body. Through his heaving, he didn’t even notice Osamu take off his glasses and place them down on the counter nor did he really notice his still bleeding hand squished against their bodies.

He could only be held by Osamu as he gave him all his time and attention and stability. His hand still running along the back of Akaashi’s head, keeping him grounded.

“I want you to breathe with me, okay?”

A deep inhale,

_1…2…3…4..._

A deep exhale,

_5…6…7…8…_

Following Osamu’s chest and his counting down, he could feel the strength of fatigue dragging him down already. His still bloody hand was pressed against their chest, staining both their shirts. The crusty blood on his hand dried and had turned into the tears still cascading down his red cheeks. Funny how the mistakes of Akaashi could lead to spilling tears of relief.

It wasn’t a few minutes later when Akaashi’s breathing had finally settled into tiny hiccups. In their position of Osamu practically carrying all his body weight, Osamu eventually pulled away, seeing Akaashi’s wrecked face correctly for the first time that day.

Akaashi couldn’t look him in the eye. He was afraid to.

Osamu, the observant bastard he is, seemed to notice his lack of eye contact and brought his hand underneath Akaashi’s chin, softly bringing Akaashi’s attention toward him. Osamu’s eyes trailed to his hair where he ever-so-delicately pushed Akaashi’s hair out of his tear-stained face.

“Why is yer hand bleeding?”

Out of everything in the world Osamu could have said, Akaashi could only dumbfoundedly stare back at him with their 2 cm height difference that put Osamu over him. Their eyes were already used to the stillness of the night.

Caught off guard by the sudden question, Akaashi let out a smile. A real smile.

He started to laugh.

This soft laughter became contagious since it was then passed on to Osamu as he let out soft exhales at Akaashi’s sudden burst of laughter.

Even as Osamu brought Akaashi’s hand under the facet again and dried it off with a kitchen towel, Akaashi couldn’t stop watching with amusement as Osamu took care of his wound, wrapping it up in a gauge from the first aid kit they kept under the sink.

Despite the fact that he wanted to throw up when Osamu was fixing his hand from the heaviness of his crying or through his deliriousness and just had the urge to collapse on the floor not giving a damn if he hit his head or not, he couldn’t help but watch in fascination as Osamu worked on his hand ever so gently as if he was afraid to hurt him even more.

“What’re ya smiling about, Keiji?” he asked as he was finishing up with the medical tape on his hand.

Akaashi took a deep breath, one that made his shoulders reach his ears and fall down below his neck. A deep breath to let him know he was still human. Akaashi looked up with his worn-out glittering eyes, “You’re finally here.”

With another damp kitchen towel, Osamu began to clean Akaashi’s face. His snot-stained nose and red eyes were clean off his face. The only sign of Akaashi’s breakdown being his inflated, red eyes and his hand wrapped around the medical tape.

Osamu smiled. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Akaashi began to smile along as he moved to sit on the counter. Osamu’s hands were on his hips, lifting him to settle on the kitchen surface.

His hands that knew every inch of Akaashi’s body. From his nights where he stayed up in the wee hours of the moon, Osamu every so often would have to move his sleepy body to rest from the living room to their bed. Even though Akaashi was rather tall, Osamu had no problem carrying him to bed if it meant he got to sleep better.

“Osamu,” Akaashi said, wrapping his arms around his wider frame and only Osamu in his field of vision due to his glasses being unoccupied on his face.

“Hm.” He still had his hands on Akaashi’s hips, moving his thumb back and forth in a steady rhythm. He fit right between the slot of Akaashi’s legs.

“Why were,” he cleared his throat, “why were the knives in the cleaning cabinet?” He knew how often Osamu switched his utensils around. Not once was a ladle found in the same place twice or a mug found in the same cupboard.

 _“Keeps the excitement in the kitchen alive, ‘Kaashi,”_ he would say. The only thing that would stay the constant, ironically enough, were the ingredients. When they would run out or buy more, each spice and vegetable had their respective place in the kitchen.

“Goddamn it. I knew I misplaced them somewhere.”

Akaashi brushed it off, used to his boyfriend’s antics and laid his head against his shoulder, breath ghosting Osamu’s neck. 

“You could’ve killed me, you know?”

“Fuck. Is that why ya were bleeding out to death?”

“Yes.” Akaashi laughed, closing his eyes.

Osamu pulled back, allowing him to fully appreciate Akaashi’s beauty. “Well, how ya feeling?”

“Like shit.”

“Hm. I figured.” Osamu dragged his hand through his own hair. “That bad of a day?”

Akaashi nodded, remembering every little frustration that had pent up his anger.

“Well, the good thing about bad days is knowing that tomorrow’s will be different.”

Every time Akaashi had been dealing with these days full of slugging, he often remembered how the sun would rise at the beginning of every day, a sign of renewal and starting over.

No longer can Akaashi physically go back on a day full of misery or relive his lost hours of sleep. Every morning, whether he actually went to sleep or not, gave him the tiniest bit of hope that that day will come out a little different. Tired of reliving those same days over and over again, the promise of the sun after every star in the night sky couldn’t be enough to light his way, always gave him a sign to continue working.

No matter how much sleep he got or how much work he’d done, it was always Osamu’s words and presence that brought him back, that made him feel alive.

After telling Osamu _everything_ that went wrong while Osamu lit up a few candles here and there, he started to feel the weight of guilt he felt on those restless nights begin to subdue. The strain of holding one’s self together can eventually lead to his destruction after all.

Osamu, of course, was always there to take that burden off of Akaashi. So, he listened to every word Akaashi said. To every curse and swear that he could come up with to describe how his day went.

Osamu loved it. He loved seeing his Akaashi unwind and just be himself. He knew that Akaashi would try to fix and be there for everyone when he couldn’t seem to be there for himself.

“And then it spilled _everywhere_.”

“Everywhere?”

“Even on the computer wires.” He perched his glasses back up his nose and threw another egg roll into his mouth. “Ugh, it was so embarrassing.”

It was a little while after Akaashi’s breakdown that they finally sat down in their living room, enjoying their time with each other.

After changing into clean clothes, cleaning the blood off the kitchen tiles, and making a quick dinner, they were finally alone with each other. No other worries or thoughts invaded their little bubble they caught themselves in.

Candles surrounded the kotatsu, and Osamu had turned on a battery powered radio he found in one of the cupboards.

“ _Who knew they still existed?_ ” Osamu said.

The air conditioning was still not on. They still had no power and barely any battery left in their phones.

Yet, it was the most peace Akaashi felt all day.

The faint music of the radio could barely be heard over the talking and laughing of their conversations.

It had been so long since Akaashi felt this close to Osamu. It had been so long since he’d seen him so unbothered and carefree. This was the first time he’s had the chance to spend time with him other than those times in bed where they were too tired to keep a conversation going.

It had felt like a renaissance. It was the starting over and renewal of their relationship. Even though they hadn’t changed at all, being able to spend time with each other again was all the confirmation Akaashi ever needed.

When the radio turned into a song of sweet jazz, Osamu perked up, eyebrows upturned. He stood up.

“No, no.” Akaashi laughed as Osamu brought him up into a standing position, dragging him up by his arms.

“Come on, Kejii.” He chuckled, “Just one dance.”

Rolling his eyes, Akaashi threw his hands over Osamu’s broad shoulders while Osamu brought his hands down to Akaashi’s hips.

Their breaths mingled with each other’s; noses pressed against one another as Osamu hummed along to the faint song on the radio.

Akaashi wasn’t perfect. Not by a long shot.

His flaws were always going to be there whether he liked it or not. Osamu, of course, was always there to remind him that he was right by his side. Akaashi no longer had his thoughts filled with deadlines or the urge to collapse in the middle of the night.

As they swayed to the music in each other’s arms with the soft glow of the candles and the rain now calmed down to a light drizzle, Akaashi knew they were going to be okay.

The sun would eventually have to rise the next day.

**Author's Note:**

> hey yall🤠  
> This was originally gonna be a crack fic, but I thought *cracks knuckles* lemme see what I can do with my potential at 2 in the morning. 
> 
> Every time I can’t sleep, I always write, whether I write 2 sentences or even this big momma right here. So I hope that whenever ur reading this, may it bring you the same sense of comfort I felt when writing it, alone with my thoughts and whatnot 
> 
> You can find me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/yes_dot_com)!  
> Feel free to give any feedback :)


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